The Principle of a Philosopher by Eternal Fool 'Asley' - Chapter 2: Magic, Magecraft, and the Warriors

In the Canglan Continent, there existed a rule: only those who managed to awaken a Martial Spirit were able to pursue the path of cultivation, and a Martial Spirit’s rank was determined when it was awakened. Born in Linshui City, Qin Nan was a peerless genius who possessed great talents and was highly anticipated to become a great cultivator in the future. However, things changed when he ended up awakening the lowest-grade Martial Spirit, resulting in him being considered trash.

Suddenly appearing in a different world, it looks like I got caught up in a Hero Summoning. And of course, I’m not the Hero, but it’s another guy……and while being very cautious and scared of the cliche of the cliche-like development, I was thrown into the maelstrom of war……or not.

The Demon Lord? It was defeated a thousand years ago. Hero? He’s just the main actor in a festival. Nobles? They’re kindly taking care of us. The Demon Race? They have good relationships with Humans. Wars? It’s already 800 years since the last one. Monsters? The Guild and Order of Knight are taking care of them. Return to Earth? It is eventually No-Risk.

What I’m planning after being caught up into this? I’m gonna enjoy the life in a different world as much as I want to, go on a cultural exchange and sightseeing, and after experiencing the festival that is only held once every ten years……I shall go home safely.

The other world was――at Peace.

A kind world where the three races, the Spirit World’s Magical Races, the Celestial World’s Divine Races, the Mortal World’s Human Races, they are kind neighbors to each other, with everyone living a peaceful and fulfilling life.

But although I wished to peacefully spend a year before my return, for some reason, the heavyweights of this world keeps gathering around me, and……

“Y-young master, the Lord is requesting your presence.”

I looked at myself in the mirror as a maid's voice, laced with trepidation, reached my ears.

“Tell him I'll be there shortly.”

“I understand, y-young master.”

I paid no mind to her quivering presence, my gaze fixed on my reflection.

And this is exactly why I despise this character, Yes, He is a villain with my name but does it matter, no, the problem is this guy's weight he is so heavy that this tub of lard is weighing me down, literally.

For someone who prides themselves on muscle, nothing's worse than “fat,” and this guy before me? Well, he's a prime example of that.

“I suppose I need a workout.”

Reaching the door, exhaustion gripped me and I found myself gasping for breath. It was unbelievable – this body was so darn heavy.

After an arduous struggle, I finally made my way out of the room, causing servants carrying a litter¹ to scurry over. They lowered it, creating a path for me to step onto it.

I tried to ignore the spectacle – it was this pampering that turned this fatty into a giant tire. Pushing the annoyance aside, I began to move, managing only about 10 steps before my legs gave out.

Damn it. Seriously? I collapsed, leaving the twenty servants to hastily lift me and place me onto the litter. For me, it felt more like a stretcher. There I was, sprawled on it like some mountain, panting heavily.

“You damn god! I hope the protagonist of your favorite novel gets NTRed!”

“We're here, young master.”

Can you believe it? his father's office is just thirty steps away from this pumpkin room, yet he insists on using a litter.

“Give me a hand.”

I ordered while cursing this hefty body under my breath.

“Oh, come, come, my dear child. How was your day?”

I glanced at the middle-aged man, his face exuding warmth and care.

As for my feelings? This old man right here is the reason this chubby exists. Not that I give a darn about my indulgent father.

“I'm alright, Dad.”

Yes, imagine this: as a noble, this old man spoiled this pumpkin so much that he thinks he can go around scolding the mansion's maids and servants.

“Take a seat. Hey, fetch his chair!”

You might wonder why he doesn't sit on a regular chair. Well, that's because the chair is custom-made to accommodate this hippo-sized frame.

“What's going on, Dad?”

Seriously, why would he summon this big old hippo over to his quarters? There's gotta be a reason for it....

“Your fiancee is coming tomorrow”

……………………………………………………………

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Death, Depression, Poverty, Love issues – all things that a 27-year no-name writer faces.